


Half the battle is won by asking for it

by BakedAppleSauce



Series: The desert is a waste of time [4]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakedAppleSauce/pseuds/BakedAppleSauce
Summary: “You ever fuck somebody before?” Tommy asks before he can think too much about it; very deliberately focuses on keeping their rhythm going, not paying attention to anything else. There, he said it. And the world didn’t end.In which some things aren't easy, but important. Communication happens to be one of them.(Set somewhere in the not-so-distant future, but definitely after "It's the rain that fills the rivers". You know the drill by now.)





	Half the battle is won by asking for it

“Fuckin’ hell, mate,” is the first thing Alfie says when he opens one eye to find that Tommy is already awake. He doesn’t seem surprised at all. “You fucking allergic to sleep or something? Hm?”

Tommy’s been awake for maybe half an hour at this point, because he woke up at the break of dawn and spent some time staring at the opposing wall while the room slowly got brighter, illuminated by the early light. It’s an old habit. Then he had to use the bathroom and when he got back, moving quietly in Alfie’s already unnaturally quiet house, he realized that the bedroom smells like the both of them.

It’s one of those things that you don’t notice after a while, until you have something else to compare it to. Up close, Alfie does too – like sweat and sex, a bit of rum, maybe, and something that might be traces of his aftershave. Tommy would never admit it out loud, but something about the combination is really doing his head in. Could be just based on association alone – that scent and its undeniable connection to him coming his brains out.

“Yes,” he says dryly. “I am. Very serious condition, as a matter of fact.”

“S’fucking unsettling, is what it is,” Alfie says, frowning, annoyance somewhat undermined by the fact that he hasn’t so much as lifted his head from his pillow yet. Technically, Tommy didn’t even do anything to wake him up – he smoked a cigarette, before, cursing quietly when he missed the ashtray on the nightstand at one point, and Alfie managed to sleep through _that_ just fine. But somebody looking at him out of the corner of their eye for more than five seconds is highly disruptive, apparently.

“Ignore me, then.”

“Hmmm, yeah,” Alfie says, closing his eyes again. When he speaks, it’s half muffled by the pillow. “Like that’s gonna happen.” He wraps his hand around Tommy’s upper arm without looking and pulls him forward, surprisingly strong for somebody who doesn’t even appear to be fully conscious yet.

“Fuck off,” Tommy says, trying to twist out of his grip; on principle more than anything, if he’s perfectly honest. Except two seconds later, Alfie shoves a leg between Tommy’s own, pressing it in and _upwards_ and... fuck. All right. Fine. Tommy is already rocking against him before he even stops trying to free his arm. He’s been half-hard for a while now, pleasant hum of arousal in the back of his mind.

“Here we go,” Alfie murmurs against the top of Tommy’s head, satisfied, still sounding half asleep. They’re plastered against each other under the covers, slotting together instinctively. Alfie’s skin feels hot, not quite damp with sweat yet, but definitely getting there. “That’s better, innit.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy tells his collarbone, breathless already. His cock is rubbing up against Alfie’s thigh, but since there’s no real pressure, it’s not going to be enough to get him anywhere near coming – at this point, they’re just rocking against each other with tiny movements that don’t actually _do_ anything. At the same time, it seems impossible to stop.

Tommy doesn’t know why _this_ has to be the moment he decides to bring it up; he certainly didn’t plan on mentioning it. Today or ever, if he’s perfectly honest. But apparently, this is what happens if he lets his guard down for five fucking seconds.

“You ever-” he starts and immediately snaps his mouth shut, horrified at himself.

“I ever… what?” Alfie asks, and there must be some justice in the world, because he sounds out of breath as well. Then again, it’s not like he ever tries to hide anything, at least not as far as Tommy can tell, which is annoying on a whole different level. Alfie never makes an effort to appear unaffected by what they’re doing; never seems to care about visibly enjoying something or about making too much noise. Sometimes, Tommy could strangle him for his easy confidence.

He forces himself to keep the pace, even though all he wants to do is speed up, to put his hand on his cock, or better yet, put _Alfie’s_ hand on his cock. Fucking _something._ But no, he decides, now he has started it, so they’re having this fucking conversation – because right now, he’s too wrapped up in the physical sensation to panic or second-guess himself or change his mind. It’s almost like knowing you’re drunk and not having to care about anything, except in this case, it’s the frustration of being really turned on. Alfie, as always, is following his lead without complaint, even though Tommy can feel him rock hard against his hip.

“You ever fuck somebody before?” Tommy asks before he can think too much about it; very deliberately focuses on keeping their rhythm going, not paying attention to anything else. There, he said it. And the world didn’t end.

Except Alfie stops moving then, which makes Tommy tighten his legs around the thigh between them automatically. _Fuck._ He wants to groan in frustration, but sinks his teeth into his lower lip instead, breathing slowly through his nose.

“Right,” Alfie says, clearing his throat. All of a sudden, he sounds a lot more awake. “Hm. All right. I’m… going to go out on a limb here and assume, yeah, that you’re asking me if I ever… fucked another _guy_ before? Because it’s either that, right, or the alternative, which would imply that you’re asking me if I’ve been a _virgin_ before we started doing this and I don’t know what to tell you-"

Tommy cracks up at that, he can’t even help it; it comes out of nowhere and is _such_ a ridiculous fucking idea. He pushes his forehead against Alfie’s shoulder, snickering, and then realizes it’s shaking because Alfie is laughing as well.

“The answer,” Tommy manages, breath hitching. “The answer to that better be yes, all right-”

“Well, yeah, yeah, ‘course it is-”

“Because otherwise, I’m bloody leaving right now-”

“Pure as the driven snow, I swear to you-”

They’re both still hard, pressed close together, but now they’re laughing like idiots, clutching at each other for support. It takes them a minute to calm down again.

“Tommy,” Alfie says eventually, somewhat serious. “Eyes up here for a second, yeah?”

It takes actual effort to look at him. Tommy is almost embarrassed by how frantically his gaze is darting around – down to Alfie’s collarbone, back to his face, to the wall behind him and back to his face again – but he can’t really help it.

“What?” he asks, defiantly.

“If the actual question here is: Would I know what I’m doing, right, in theory, because I have in fact, at some point in the past, put my dick inside another guy before? Yeah? The answer would also be yes.”

Because of course, Tommy thinks, almost angrily, of _fucking_ course he got it in one. Of course he did. He can feel embarrassment and arousal rushing through him in equal parts, making his face heat up and his cock twitch at the same time.

“Not today,” he says in a rush. “Didn’t mean today,” which in itself is a clear admission that yes, Alfie drew the right conclusion.

“Well yeah, no, ‘course not,” Alfie agrees easily, like that much should be obvious. “S’gonna take some time, that. Gotta work up to it.”

And Jesus fucking _Christ,_ Tommy thinks, he should have fucking realized that Alfie was going to _talk_ about it. How did he not see this coming? Alfie is going to be perfectly fine having this bloody conversation, because Alfie honestly doesn’t care; which is too bad for him, really, because Tommy doesn’t want to hear any of it. But the next question is not what he expected at all.

“Never done that, have you” Alfie asks, clearly aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “Nobody’s ever fucked you before?” It should be flattering, or at least make Tommy feel like he got the upper hand in some way, because Alfie obviously cares about the answer to that question.

But it feels like having to admit to some kind of weakness instead, even though that doesn’t make any sense at all. If anything, Tommy thinks, it should be the other way around, surely? He considers lying, but it’s probably going to become very apparent that he’s got absolutely no experience, if they ever actually go through with it, and the only thing more humiliating than giving Alfie the satisfaction of being… well, the _first,_ is letting him know that Tommy actually _cares_ about that fact one way or the other.

“None of your business,” he says hoarsely.

There is a moment of silence.

“Taking that as a no,” Alfie says then, guessing correctly.

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy mutters. “We really have to have this bloody discussion right now?”

“You’re the one who started it, mate,” Alfie says, but he’s grinning. “I was just over here, yeah, completely _innocent,_ trying to get some fuckin’ sleep in my own bed-”

He doesn’t get any further, because Tommy grabs him by the back of the head, fingers threading through his hair; pulls him down and kisses him, to shut him up more than anything. It completely derails the conversation, which is a nice side effect. They kiss deeply, everything a lot more urgent all of a sudden. He sinks his teeth into Alfie’s lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood which, instead of having any kind of normal reaction, only makes Alfie wrap an arm around him to pull him even closer, fingers splaying wide over the small of Tommy’s back.

They throw the covers off at some point, because it’s getting unbearably hot. When Alfie reaches for Tommy’s cock, the angle is awkward – for some reason, he does it with the hand that’s been lodged underneath them and once he’s wrapped his fingers around Tommy, he can’t seem to move them more than a few inches up and down. Would be easier if they separated a bit, Tommy thinks hazily, but he doesn’t really want to, so he stays put.

The circle of Alfie’s fingers tightens just under his cockhead, thumb pressing right against the most sensitive spot. It feels fucking incredible. And then Alfie’s other hand – the one Tommy forgot was even there – slides down to cup his ass, and before Tommy realizes what’s going on, there are fingers sliding _between,_ one of them gently pressing against his hole. Not doing anything else, just… _there._ Right fucking there.

He doesn’t know what to do – it makes him want to draw his leg up for better access and kick Alfie off at the same time. The fact that Alfie isn’t even trying to push inside makes it worse, somehow, makes Tommy realize how he pathetically wants _more_ instead of less. Alfie’s other hand is still stroking him in the same slow, limited rhythm, not even making a token effort to speed up, which, God. _Fuck._ Tommy twitches into his grip helplessly, pushing his cock in and out of Alfie’s fist as much as he can.

He doesn’t think that he’s been more aware of anything in his life than of the one fingertip rubbing over his hole. Early sunlight is streaming in through the windows. When he looks down between them, the visual is fucking obscene.

“Hmmm,” Alfie says suddenly, sounding pensive and very far away, almost like he’s talking to himself instead of Tommy. “We ever get that far, yeah, m’gonna fuck you for _hours._ I swear. And it’s gonna be good, you’re gonna love it, you stupid boy, you won’t even remember your own name by the end-“

Tommy stops listening then, because he’s coming in long, sticky pulses, back arching, static in his ears. He doesn’t know if he’s making any noise or not. When he comes back to himself, he’s got his face buried against Alfie’s shoulder again, panting harshly and trembling with aftershocks.

“There you go,” Alfie says and pats his hip. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it.”

“Hours?” Tommy says, going for incredulous and only managing to sound dazed instead. “Really? _Hours?”_

When he looks up, Alfie is staring back at him unapologetically, eyes dark with arousal.

“Oh absolutely,” he says, nodding seriously. His face is flushed and his cock is hard against Tommy’s hip, smearing pre-cum. “Hours, yeah, maybe even for a week-”

His eyes flutter shut when Tommy takes him in hand, still feeling kind of shaky, and starts stroking him nice and easy.  

“A whole _week,”_ Tommy deadpans, voice pitched low and kind of turned on by the idea himself, as ludicrous as it may be. _“Really._ Now that is bloody impressive, not gonna lie.”

Alfie manages to smirk at him before his breath hitches desperately. He’s opened his eyes again, looking kind of stunned; but it always seems like he _has_ to stare at Tommy every chance he gets, like he can’t even help himself. They’re both looking down between them for a moment, to where Tommy is fisting his cock. Alfie is really moving his hips into it now; his hand comes up to Tommy’s neck, tipping his chin up with one thumb. He kisses him hard, crushing his mouth almost painfully, and then he’s coming, quiet as always, spilling everywhere.

They keep kissing after that, with a strange kind of urgency that fades away slowly.

“Right,” Alfie says eventually. He kisses Tommy one last time before he maneuvers himself upright with a groan and stretches, completely naked and unselfconscious about it. Tommy would never say it out loud, but it’s a nice fucking view. He realizes that Alfie is staring down at him, not quite smiling, but his eyes are warm, crinkling at the corners.

“What?”

“Oh, nothin’ at all,” Alfie says, scratching his cheek, fingers combing through his beard. “I’ll just… keep it in mind, yeah?”

Tommy shrugs. He expected to feel embarrassed, but for some reason he doesn’t any more. This might be fine, he thinks. It’s still Alfie, of course, so there are about a million other things that could go sideways at any given moment, but this… might actually be fine.

“Can’t tell you what to do,” is what he says out loud, reaching for his packet of cigarettes on the nightstand.

It’s as close to actually admitting anything as he’s going to get right now and they both know it. Nevertheless, he feels oddly accomplished, like he managed something monumental, even though nothing happened and he didn’t really do anything. But still, he thinks, at least he… mentioned it. That’s something.

Let Alfie worry about the rest.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm drowning in work right now... so naturally, I'm doing this instead.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm [bakedapplesauce](https://bakedapplesauce.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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